


the skin i'm in is all i need

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, civil war - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Disordered Eating, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecurity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Recovery, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without orders Bucky doesn't know what to do with himself. It takes T'Challa a while to get with the program.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the skin i'm in is all i need

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This work contains explicit spoilers for Captain America: Civil War.
> 
> This is an alternate ending where instead of being put back into cyro, Bucky is granted safe haven in Wakanda. I was left unsatisfied with the crappy ending for Bucky but I was really intrigued with the idea of Bucky hiding out in Wakanda and becoming T'Challa's kept boy/getting the comfort he deserves. Steve really irritated me in CW with how he was very much focused on keeping Bucky alive but not much else. Him letting Bucky go back into cyro in the end really solidified how much Steve (and the narrative) didn't want to be bothered with Bucky's actual recovery. This is a very self-indulgent look at Bucky's recovery in Wakanda.
> 
> Title is from "Skin" by X Ambassadors.

It’s the sixth day without Steve and Bucky feels like he’s crawling out of his skin. It’s not so much Steve he misses, but the security of knowing what to expect from him.

His asylum in Wakanda was dependent on him being kept in T’Challa’s private residence. Steve and T’Challa both agreed that if Bucky was triggered, T’Challa would be the best person to disarm him with minimal damage. Neither of them mentioned it in front of Bucky but he knew T'Challa's castle was the only place secluded enough to hide his existence from General Ross and Stark. The castle was more than comfortable; full of sleek white floors, modern leather and glass furniture. Bucky had spent the majority of his life living in a cage of ice and metal so he couldn’t complain. 

He only saw T’Challa in the evenings when he would visit Bucky’s room and ask him about his day. The anticipation of his visits made Bucky anxious so after the third night he pretended to be asleep. T’Challa would still stand over him for a few moments, always watchful, before leaving. It unsettled Bucky more than he cared to admit.

 T’Challa’s daily absence left Bucky aimless, sometimes lying in bed for the entire day until a servant came to wake him. Unlike Steve who asked so much of him, T’Challa didn’t seem to want anything. It set Bucky’s nerves on edge to not know what to expect from this calm self-possessed man. Steve wanted his old friend back so it was easy for him to slip into the skin of James Buchanan Barnes and joke about events he barely remembered and things he would rather forget. It comforted Steve and his validation made Bucky feel safe. That was one of the first lessons he learnt from Hydra: keep your handler happy.

He’s curled up in bed, the heavy weight of the duvet grounding him, when he feels a warm hand press to his forehead. He immediately flinches trying to grab the hand with his metal arm before realizing he doesn’t have an arm to grab it with.

“Calm down James.”

 His body relaxes as T’Challa’s warmth seeps into his skin. “I’m sorry.” He forces out awkwardly, his voice rough from disuse. He still doesn’t know how to treat T’Challa who is so kind, but so distant in his royalty.

 “You don’t have to apologize for being startled, I was just checking to see if you were ill.” T’Challa sits on the corner of the bed, unwittingly forcing Bucky to curl up by his thigh. “Nakia told me you haven’t gotten up all day. Your food was rotting in the hallway for awhile until she noticed the smell.”

Bucky feels an uncomfortable bubble of panic in his stomach at the reprimand and sits up, his head knocking against T’Challa’s chin. “I didn’t leave it there on purpose! It’s just hard for me to remember to…eat sometimes.” Bucky has trouble remembering that he’s a person on his worst days _._ His throat gets dry at the prospect of disclosing the gritty details to T’Challa. Words like _feeding tube_ and _nutritional paste_ get stuck in his throat.

Steve would have flinched at the implication of Bucky’s words, maybe cried a bit and silently longed for the Bucky Barnes who knew how to take care of himself. Instead, T’Challa hums considerately and pulls his head to rest on his shoulder.

 “I have to admit I cannot understand your feelings so I will not offer you false advice, only what I believe is best for you. You need food and to be clean. You are going to get up and shower. Then you will shave and put on clean clothes. When you’re finished you’re going to join me for dinner. Is that understood?” Bucky feels a trill of satisfaction at having orders, for the first time for what seems like years.

“Yes, your majesty.” He says sarcastically, pulling his body away from the warmth of T’Challa and standing up shakily. He still has trouble balancing without the heavy weight of his arm by his side. T’Challa holds him by the small of his waist, giving him a few moments to gather himself.

“Don’t hurt yourself James.” He throws back with a playful grin. There is an uncomfortable backbone of conviction to T’Challa’s words.

_Don’t hurt yourself._

* * *

 

Bucky stirs his soup uncertainly, looking at T’Challa who seems completely focused on his tablet. His skin smells sickly sweet and his jaw is bare in a way that it hasn’t been in years. He feels raw and exposed, not that T’Challa seems to care.

“Why did you take me in?” Bucky asks feeling suddenly angry in the face of T’Challa’s indifference.

T’Challa pauses, setting down his tablet slowly. He won’t even throw it at me like a normal person, Bucky thinks bitterly, remembering fists and angry hands that have touched him for far less.

“I didn’t take you in. I’m repaying a debt to both you and Captain Rogers.” T’Challa moves to stand which makes Bucky flinch. T’Challa pauses and sits back down. “I wrongfully tried to take your life for a crime you didn’t commit when you were also a victim. It is a disgrace of mine that I wish to correct.” T’Challa tactfully avoids mentioning Bucky’s other crimes.

His answer is so logical and simple but Bucky can’t comprehend it. “I don’t believe you.” He says flatly, he can feel the manic ugly words rising in his mouth like vomit but he can’t stop.

“Nobody lets a monster live in their home without an ulterior motive.” Bucky stands up, grabbing at the empty space where his arm used to be. “I don’t have my arm anymore but maybe you want to fix me up with something more lethal? Just screw the pretense entirely and weld an actual weapon onto me?” He laughs bitterly, “Or maybe you want a guinea pig to test new technology on? It’s not like I could complain since I’m not a citizen of any country.” Bucky tugs at the collar of his tunic, “Or do you want a _whore_ that you can put away on ice when you’re finished-“

“Be quiet James.” T’Challa’s voice is full of so much controlled anger, Bucky’s hands shake. T’Challa stands abruptly, knocking his chair to the ground. It makes something primal in Bucky preen with self satisfaction. Yes, he thinks, prove me right. This is something he understands. A fist to his face, a hand on his throat, a hand in his hair-"

Bucky almost jumps when T’Challa sinks to his knees in front of him.

“Why do you think such cruel things about me? About yourself? Has anyone here treated you unkindly?” T’Challa’s voice is curt and angry, but not at him. T'Challa's hands run over his waist and his stomach, looking for wounds from a phantom villain he thinks has filled Bucky's mind with hateful thoughts.

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to the unexpected turn of the conversation, “No, but nobody keeps a weapon off ice unless it’s for a reason. Keeping me awake is a drain on your resources” He recites rationally, “I’m a danger to you and your country-“

“I’m a King, James. Do not talk down to me.” T’Challa grabs his face, which makes him feel even more vulnerable than if T’Challa had just punched him like he wanted. “Do you really think I’d let them take you?” Bucky thinks of Steve, strong and resilient Steve, who couldn’t stop Tony from blowing his arm off.

“Stronger men than you have tried.”

T’Challa fixes him with a stern look, “Are you suggesting that Captain Rogers is stronger than me?” It takes Bucky a moment to realize he’s teasing.

Bucky looks down, shyly. “Well maybe not stronger.”

“I know you aren’t a fool, so where do you get these ideas? I’m not a boy like Captain Rogers or a fickle child like Stark. If I didn’t want you, you wouldn’t be here.” Bucky knows in his bones that T’Challa would never lie to him, but his mind is a war zone.

He laughs wetly to hide his tears, burying his face in T’Challa’s neck.

“I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

T’Challa runs his hand through Bucky’s hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. It’s so unlike others who have touched him there that it makes his skin itch.

“I don’t want anything from you James. I just want to help you. Will you let me help you?”

“I don’t know how.” Bucky says blankly, the weight of his words making him go limp in T’Challa’s arms.

T’Challa lets the words hang in the air as he rubs circles into Bucky’s back. 

“I have to apologize.”

“What?” Bucky pushes away from him, confused.

“I see now that I’ve been negligent of you. I knew that your treatment under HYDRA was cruel, I just wrongfully assumed you would benefit from time alone to learn your own mind. I didn’t consider the fact that your mind can also be your greatest enemy. Forgive me.”

“It’s not your fault.” He says timidly, “I’m just…messed up.” T’Challa moves to interrupt him but Bucky continues, “I know you’re a good person, only a saint could let me live in his home without putting me under, but not knowing what you want scares me. I’ve never belonged to someone who didn’t want to use me.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, T’Challa pulls it away and holds it firmly in his lap.

“You don’t belong to me James.” Bucky ignores the swell of disappointment at his words. “You only belong to yourself.”

“I know you feel guilty, you feel that you owe me, Stark, Captain Rogers-", Bucky looks up at that, his eyes red rimmed, “But you don’t owe this world a thing. Especially after what it’s done to you.”

This time T’Challa pulls Bucky’s head to his chest, letting him hide his red eyes from him, for just a moment. 

T’Challa lets go first, his face calming when he sees Bucky’s dry eyes. It’s like all the fear and anger has leaked out of him, Bucky thinks hazily. Only T’Challa has that effect on him. 

“Don’t think I forgot about dinner just because you decided to throw a tantrum. You are going to finish all of it and then stay for dessert since you skipped breakfast and lunch.” He’s got his ‘King-face’ on, but his voice is earnest.

Bucky chuckles, “Ya alright, your majesty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave reviews because they feed my soul and motivate me to write more.
> 
> The next chapter should be posted within the week and will probably be about Steve visiting Bucky after 6 months and seeing the difference T'Challa's care has had on Bucky. I may also add a third chapter and write some h/c about Bucky healing and save Steve's visit for the last chapter.
> 
> EDIT: I lost the inspiration to finish so this has officially been changed to a oneshot! Sorry guys.


End file.
